When I was a little kid my best friends were the two kids who lived behind us. Until we moved away in 1973, I was only one time farther in their house than the back entrance (and that only into the kitchen). Their house was always completely quiet and dark. Their parents never talked to me. Their older brother was in the Navy off the coast of Viet Nam. My friends never talked about their brother over a whisper, and never around their house. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized how much this affected me and lead to my hatred of war.

Despite this, being (at the time) a fully propagandized Yank, I probably would have volunteered if 9/11 had happened in 1982 instead of 2001. I wonder if I’d be alive today. Looking at these posts, odds are that even if I lived I would not be recognizable to the people who knew me prior to service.